


I won't say I'm in love

by christinefromsherwood



Series: 007 Fest 2019 [12]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Asexual Aromantic Bill Tanner, Coming Out, Friendship, Gen, Humor, while drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 18:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19874209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood
Summary: Now, is there a better way to come out to your friends than when you’re all drunk off your ass (on vodka, Chardonnay, and G&T respectively) and singing karaoke in a horribly off-key way?The answer to that is: Yes. Of course, there is.





	I won't say I'm in love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soufflegirl91](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soufflegirl91/gifts).



> _Anon prompt:_ Fics inspired by songs or albums (not Hozier, to prevent confusion with the earlier prompt)  
>  _Collab Prompt Table:_ a drunken karaoke prompt from souffle
> 
> Thank you for the prompt, souffle :D I had fun with this one.
> 
> **Happy Ace/Aro Characters Day!**

Now, is there a better way to come out to your friends than when you’re all drunk off your ass (on vodka, Chardonnay, and G&T respectively) and singing karaoke in a horribly off-key way?

The answer to that is: Yes. Of course there is.

Nevertheless, it was while he was howling the words “I won’t say I’m in love” off a badly synced YouTube video, with Eve and Q crooning “You keep on denying who you are and how you're feeling,” in the background that Bill Tanner blurted out:

“Actually, I’m an aro- an aro-“

And then he hiccupped so strongly, he almost threw up and had to stop speaking, which prompted Eve to scrunch up her forehead and say, while burping:

“You’re not an Arrow, Billy. You’re more of a Black Canary, if you gaaaargh—excsssuuuse me—if you aaask me.”

“Oh do me, do me!” Q babbled at her excitedly, waving his wine glass in the classic Wingardium Leviosa movement so vehemently that Bill worried for his carpet.

Vaguely.

Somewhere in the back, way way back, of his mind, he worried.

“Q, you’re a clear Ffffelicity,” Eve decided. “B. A. M. F. , and always drooling when our Bondy-boy comes to the office sweaty from the gym.”

“Thasss- Thatsss so tru-“ Bill cackled, then hiccupped again and wisely put his right hand in front of his face, ready for any mishap, as he with a narrowed look calculated the distance from the sofa to his kitchen sink.

Suddenly, Q had red splotches all over his face and neck, and was whining something about both of them being “fiendish, filthy liars who lie.”

In the video, Hercules’s girlfriend ended up admitting “At least out loud I won’t say I’m in love,” and Bill was suddenly reminded why he didn’t like this song.

At. All.

“No,” he said. And he had meant to say it with quiet dignity, but somehow he ended up shouting so loudly old Mr O’Brien from downstairs banged on his ceiling and yelled for them “idjits to shut up and go the feck to sleep”.

“SHAN’T!” Bill bellowed back, this time intentionally.

Vaguely. Somewhere in the back, way way back, of his mind, Bill registered that his next-door neighbours’ toddler joined in the ruckus.

“I won’t deny who I am and how I’m feeling anymore!”

“That’s right! You tell ‘em, Bill,” Eve banged her now-empty tall glass on the coffee table. “You’re a Black Cana-!”

“No!” Bill interrupted her.

As he swayed unsteadily on his feet and clutched at the back of his sofa, he realized hazily that he must have got up and walked around it.

“I AM AN AROMATIC – AN ARO _MAN_ TIC! AND AN ASEXU- acesheksu- AND I DON’ WANNA HAVE SEX WITH PEOPLE!”

Q and Eve cheered and wolf-whistled their approval and acceptance.

That’s all Bill remembered the next morning when he dragged himself and the stabbing pain in his head into his bathroom.

He would have smiled when he recalled the looks on their faces if he weren’t so busy hurling into the porcelain bowl at that moment.

And it was when he was spitting his mouth-wash into the sink when another snippet of a memory materialized in Bill’s mind.

That of old Mr O’Brien yelling in his strong brogue:

“That’s grand, laddie! Now feck off and let me go to sleep!”


End file.
